Take My Hands Off Your Eyes Too Soon
by SweetStrabane
Summary: Nations being Nations, dealing with meetings and unwanted memories. Slightly AU.


**Chapter 1 - Pandora**

World meetings were no one's favorite part of the job.  
>While their bosses were in another room discussing solutions for their beloved countries, they were gathered in another room, finding even more problems with themselves. They were supposed to be the ones to come up with solutions, but when you can live forever, it might take you forever to forget things that went wrong in the past. Lost lovers, failed relationships, wars and treaties, everything would be discussed if the right strings were pulled. It was like each one of them had a special Pandora's box waiting to be opened.<br>World meetings were the perfect stage for that, because it was obvious everyone there enjoyed the spotlight.

Specially the ones who had something nice to show.

They had all given up at some point, to dominate other countries could only mean you'd end up alone one day, you'd be seen as the evil mastermind behind someones else's misery, and the others would spend centuries staring at you with judging eyes.  
>All of them, but England.<p>

It was almost as if he was sick in the head.  
>Even Denmark spent some time trying to put some sense into him, saying he should let his family go, but the bastard had too many excuses, too many arguments to use against anyone's advices. He'd say he could raise nations, because 'take a look at America', he'd say. England would try to prove it was the best for everyone, ignore the others pointing out he was making his family captive. It wouldn't matter if they said he had never really let go of<br>America, or Canada. He'd find a way to prove 'he did, really'!

It was scary, and confusing, because maybe he was right.  
>The subject could run around the fallen empires for weeks, wondering if they were so bad back then, if the only one who really understood how to do things was England and they never gave him credit for it before.<p>

When those times came, Norway would hit both Denmark and Sweden across the head, and remind them of how much blood was dropped for nothing.  
>He'd always try to make them see they were all doing better now, on their own, but together somehow.<p>

"Next!", Germany's voice was heard as another nation took the place of the last one talking. He was always trying to control everything during those meetings, ignoring the terror he put most of them through. He, they all thought, was the best example that the higher you climb, the harder your fall is.

World meetings always got some of them thinking too much.  
>Maybe not America, he didn't seem that worried about the past, he'd always be a kid at heart. Who could blame him?<p>

He could be dense sometimes, but he was a good friend.

All eyes moved to the end of the table as England raised his hand. "Excuse me but, I don't think that's practicable."  
>Some nations sighed out loud, it was France speaking, and England trying to prove he was wrong. They, more than many of them, had their own unsolved issues. Both of them enjoyed the spotlight, the chance to ruin the other's reputation. It was almost as if they were playing a game, where all the others were just cards they used here and there, a trump to get the other to the ground.<p>

England was the one going to fall first.

The French man leaned forward, resting both hands on the table in front of him, both eyebrows raised to match the smirk that was starting to spread across his lips. The tension in the room didn't come only from the two idiots trying to create a fuzz, everyone had their bets.

No one could say it wasn't entertaining, they had been following that soap opera for centuries.

But one thing was to keep the meeting going with the serious things they were supposed to discuss, the other was to stop everything to go along with their unsolved sexual tension game.  
>Well, unsolved was the wrong term.<br>Their childish bickering over the sexual tension they hated to have between them, actually. It was far more complicated then anyone would know.

They were about to have the show started when a holy angel decided to open the door to the meeting room, delicately, trying their best not to interrupt anything. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that Scotland was standing on the doorway with a pile of documents in hand, but somehow it was.  
>The metaphor they could use was that the master's prisoner had escaped.<p>

But he just nodded politely at everyone, and entered the room to hand England the pile, leaning down just enough to whisper something that made him knit his brows together. He was hosting the meeting, he wouldn't forgive himself if something went wrong.

"We have all day, don't worry", France said with a grin that showed he was in a great mood.

Scotland was the one to raise his head, with an apologetic nod. "Aam leavin' awreddy!", he said, raising his arms. England rolled his eyes and placed both hands on the table, probably waiting for his cue to stand up and start the fight he was longing for. "Oh, wait!" France said, pointing a finger to the screen he had opened to show his project. "Brésil and I had been working on this for a while now, what do you think about it, mon cher?"

The other nation stopped on his way to the door, carefully reading what France had written there. England chuckled and crossed his arms, shaking his head as if not worrying about his older brother's opinion.  
>This, was his biggest mistake.<p>

"Ah hink it's stoatin. Soonds effectife." He said, sounding sincere. Slowly he scanned the room to see England's face close to a rage he was better not be there to watch. "Noo, if ye ho ye…"  
>With a small nod he ran to the door, taking a few seconds to stare at Norway sitting opposite his brother. The Nordic nation could feel the look, the waiting for him to look back, the unspoken words hanging around those seconds it took him to close the door.<p>

He could feel it, but not retribute it.  
>A few seconds wouldn't fix years of things going wrong. Like England and France, in a completely different level, they had their own dirty little secrets they weren't willing to let go out in the open.<br>The moment they heard the click of the door, everyone let out the breathing they were barely aware they were holding.

Some of them giggled, some of them made those sounds that announced hell was about to break loose.

"Sounds like you're the only one who didn't like it, Angleterre" France mentioned, giggling. The smaller man stood up, glaring daggers at everyone before his green orbs finally rested on the man in front of the room. "My name's The United Kingdom Of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Therefore, his opinion doesn't make a difference. Your project is stupid, period."

Norway didn't really see what happened next.  
>The amount of voices trying to sound louder than the other in attempt to control the situation was unnerving.<p>

But the noise wasn't really his biggest problem.  
>What England said, about his brother not having the right to an opinion, that made his stomach twitch. Nations could say they forgot things, but it was a lie. Whenever the trigger was pulled, the avalanche of emotions would flood them, bringing up unwanted memories.<br>Specially to those who spent way too much time without the right to voice their own thoughts.

He needed some fresh air.


End file.
